'Parcel for you..'

 

‘Parcel for you. Shall I bring it inside?’

 

Vanessa was puzzled by the enormous cardboard box on the doorstep.’Oh, what is it? It looks heavy.’

 

The delivery man shrugged, ‘I dunno, you ordered it. There’s a delivery note stuck on the side, it says Robert Dyas and yes…it is bloody heavy. Want me to bring it through?’

 

‘Yes, erm, just put it down here’ she said, not keen for the man to venture right through the threshold of her front door. ‘Thank you.’

 

He dropped the box by her feet, stood back and took a quick photo then got back into his van and zoomed away with many other deliveries scheduled for that day. It was Wednesday and Vanessa had placed her order at the weekend and been told, via email, that due to high demand, the item she had ordered would be delayed.

 

She had dithered frantically over the purchase, her heart racing as she sat with her laptop, her finger hovering over the ‘place order’ button. Later she’d considered cancelling her order altogether but the delay had reassured her there was still plenty of time to reconsider and somehow none of it had felt real anyway.

 

The location of the parcel prevented her from closing the front door and she was forced to push it along the floor with her foot but it was even heavier than she thought and it took several attempts to get it clear of the door. There was a sense of fluster and she was keen to get it out of sight in case any of the neighbours saw.

 

She knelt down next to it and exhaled sharply. It occurred to her that Robert Dyas hadn’t sent her an email confirming despatch. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled down and then checked ‘all mail’. There in black and white in her junk folder, ‘Good news! Due to a number of cancelled orders, your item has been dispatched for express delivery and will be with you tomorrow by 2pm.’

 

Vanessa stood up and looked in the mirror, ‘What have I done,’ she whispered.

 

The brown box looked innocent, but there was a growing sense that she was not alone in the house; there was a presence. She peeled off the delivery note and unfurled it.

 

‘The JML Husband, deluxe version 23, programmable in 47 languages, factory reset not possible on this model. Open immediately. Items non-returnable once unlocked.’ She gazed fearfully at the cardboard and found herself knocking, tapping at it with her fingernails and waiting for a response. There wasn’t one but she thought she saw a tiny bulging movement in the side of the box. It reminded her of being pregnant, an unborn foot pushing at her belly.

 

She considered calling her friend, Pat but they had agreed that the JML Husband was something, if they ever did, that they would do together and now she had betrayed her bosom friend. 

 

The promotional video had been playing on a loop which had penetrated her resolve. JML had hypnotised her. She’d only gone in for HG drain and plug unblocker but they had it turned on extra loud, it played above the sound of the rain hitting the metal roof of the shop. It had been such a gloomy, depressing day and the store full of couples.

 

‘Sick of being alone, feeling lonely, want somebody to accompany you, on holidays, meals out, want help in the house and garden? The JML Husband comes in thirty different versions, all ages, builds and characters, all preferences catered for, our new improved husband is our best ever. See how he fits into every home with endless functions, luxury extras and add ons. You won’t regret it. We’ve got over twelve thousand, five star reviews, growing each day. He’s designed by NASA and engineers at the University of Sheffield. See how he washes those dishes, takes out the bins seamlessly without instruction, watch him cut the lawn without breaking a sweat! Order him today in store or go online to see our full range. Twenty percent off for a limited time only. While stocks last.’

 

She looked around at the beautiful wallpaper which adorned her hallway and staircase and struggled to imagine how a husband would fit into the home which she’d spent years improving and yet it was a man who she’d identified as the missing piece in her life. There he was, the missing piece inside that big box on the floor. 

 

Vanessa considered pushing the parcel into the understairs cupboard but where would she put all the shoes? She could haul it out into the garden shed but knowing how much it weighed, this was going to be very challenging, if not impossible, it would involve rolling but the sticker said, ‘this way up’. Now she was feeling annoyed by its presence. Also the ‘open immediately’ instruction was playing on her conscience. Was it possible that he would suffocate and how long would that take? What could be done with the body in such circumstances? Would it smell like real flesh and blood?

 

‘You ordered it, you silly cow!’ She said and began to peel back the parcel tape, the sound of it frightening away her inquisitive cat and sending him scampering up the stairs, only to peep cautiously down over the bannister. 

 

Beneath the lid of the box was a comprehensive instruction manual, the sight of which made her feel as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Vanessa couldn’t bear instruction manuals and her usual response would be to phone her dad and get him to read it all, then show her what to do but she in this instance she just couldn’t. There was a sense of shame in ordering the JML Husband and he would surely be disappointed in her. 

 

She put the manual on the bottom stair and pulled away the sheet of bubble wrap beneath. Under that was a solid trunk, a box made from thick material, somewhere between wood and cardboard with a key taped to the top and a sticker saying, ‘Non-returnable once unlocked.’

 

Vanessa stood up and froze for a few minutes, frightened of the unknown life form which now accompanied her in her own home. She took a deep breath and re-assured herself that she had placed the order and she was in full control of the situation. After fetching a pair of scissors from the kitchen, she set about cutting down the sides of the parcel, exposing the whole trunk underneath. Once again, she knocked on the surface but there was no response. She wondered if the ‘husband’ inside was somehow dormant and would have to be activated but she was in no mood to even attempt reading the basics of the instruction manual.

 

Now it was taking up the entire width of the hall and was already in her way. She sat on the floor and huffed and puffed as she spun the trunk around and laboriously pushed it up against the wall so it at least looked tidier. After removing the cardboard she returned and sat on the stairs feeling uneasy about leaving it alone. The side of the trunk was visible now and she noticed a small hole, fearfully she leant in close and hovered next to it. Suddenly there was a slight movement and what was unmistakably an eye appeared on the other side of the hole.

 

Vanessa gasped and raced upstairs, clutching her phone, taking two steps at a time. She ran into her bedroom, slammed the door and leapt onto her bed, curling up into the foetal position. After some swearing and a few tears, she scrolled down to Pat’s contact, dialled but initially couldn’t speak. 

 

‘Vanessa? What’s wrong?’

 

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whimpered.

 

‘What, what’s happened? Are you okay?’

 

‘No….I’ve ordered the JML Husband.’

 

‘You’re kidding me?’